


Hitching Down The Road Of Life

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Domestic, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek & Stiles take a trip to visit another pack and end up coming home with a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitching Down The Road Of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I just like to imagine a future where Derek Hale gets to be happy, okay? I like to throw nice things at him. This time it involves a baby.
> 
> Title from Bon Jovi - Born To Be My Baby because I embrace the 80s.

Derek reaches over Stiles and grabs his phone where it’s vibrating on the nightstand. He huffs and shakes his head as Stiles sleeps on, seemingly unaware of the phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Derek Hale?”

“Yes,” Derek frowns. “Who’s this?”

“Anthony Devlin.”

Derek sits up in bed, suddenly wide awake. “Oh. Hello.”

“You know who I am, then?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. We would like to extend an invitation to you, and your mate, to join us in the next month. Your parents and I were close, and I feel it’s time for the Devlin and Hale packs to re-establish a connection.”

Derek nods to himself. “Yes sir. Was there a particular date you had in mind?”

“Not at all. Discuss it with your mate, you can reach me on this number. I trust you will let me know once you decide.”

“Of course, sir,” Derek says before they exchange goodbyes. He drops the phone in his lap and stares blankly at the wall opposite. Beside him, Stiles makes a snuffling noise and rubs his face into the pillow. Derek smiles softly, runs a hand over Stiles’ back and squeezes gently at his neck. Stiles smirks into the pillow, his eyes still stubbornly closed, and hums happily.

“Stiles, I know you’re awake.”

“Am not,” Stiles mumbles.

“After seven years, I know you’re not a sleep talker,” Derek says, lying back down on his side. He rests his head on the pillow and traces his fingers across Stiles’ face, lets them get caught on his lips.

Stiles’ eyes open slowly, he darts his tongue out and licks Derek’s fingers. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Who was on the phone?”

Derek rolls onto his back and stretches his arms above his head. “The Alpha of the Devlin pack, just outside Chicago.”

“Huh,” Stiles says. He turns onto his front and rests his head on Derek’s chest, hooking an arm over his body. “Why?”

“He wants us to visit,” Derek answers, idly stroking a hand along Stiles’ spine.

“Us as in The Pack, or us as in you and me.”

“You and me.”

Stiles sighs and presses his lips against Derek’s chest. “That’s good, isn’t it? Other packs reaching out?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “It is.”

“So why’s your heart beating so fast?”

“They’re the first one to ask.”

“And?”

“And they knew my parents.”

“Oh,” Stiles cranes his head up to look at Derek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yes,” Derek says, his lips grazing Stiles’ forehead. “It’s a little strange, that’s all.”

“Because you were never meant to be Alpha?”

“That, and the last time I saw them I was a kid. Seeing them as an adult – it’s different.”

“Feeling old?” Stiles says, tucking his head under Derek’s chin. “Because you’re only as old as the man that you’re feeling, so while I’m kind of screwed, you’ve got it pretty good.”

Derek laughs and wraps his arms around Stiles, holding him close. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Why do you think Lydia keeps dating young men?”

“I thought it was because they’re easier for her to control.”

“I dare you to say that to her.”

“Not happening.”

“Scared?”

“I once saw her disembowel a succubus without blinking.”

“So you are scared?”

Derek groans and lightly smacks Stiles’ side. “When do you want to go and visit them?”

“Spring break? Then I don’t have to worry about work,” Stiles says. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you side stepped that question.”

“It’s 3am, Stiles, I don’t want to talk about Lydia.”

“Really?” Stiles says, turning his head and kissing Derek’s collarbone. “What do you want to do?”

“Stiles,” says Derek, a smile on his face.

“What? It’s a weekend, we don’t have to get up tomorrow. We’re adults. We have no one staying in the house.” Stiles rolls on top of Derek and pushes himself up on his hands to look down at Derek. “Hi,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” Derek grins up at him, trailing his hands down to Stiles’ ass, pulling his body flush against him.

“So you’re on board?” Stiles asks, lowering his head to meet Derek’s lips.

“Uh huh,” Derek says just before he kisses Stiles, soft and familiar. He holds Stiles firmly and moves Stiles’ body against his. It’s been years and it still takes Derek’s breath away each time Stiles allows him to do this, allows him to use his strength to guide their bodies against each other. Derek can’t believe he’s the one who gets to hold Stiles like this, gets to hear the muffled noises that spill from Stiles’ lips in the dark. It’s a privilege he almost didn’t have, and he cherishes every moment.

Stiles’ open mouth is resting against Derek’s, their breath mingling, Derek rolls his hips up against Stiles and grins when Stiles bites down on Derek’s bottom lip in reaction. Derek licks the blood from his lip as the cut heals, and kisses Stiles until he’s gasping against Derek’s mouth. Stiles’ head falls into the crook of Derek’s neck, his breath hot against Derek’s skin. “Close,” he whispers. Derek acknowledges it with a grunt and digs his fingers into the flesh of Stiles’ ass, rocks them together until Stiles comes with a groan, Derek soon following. Stiles presses his lips against the pulse throbbing in Derek’s neck and sighs happily.

“I have the best ideas,” he says.

Derek trails his hands up and down Stiles’ back slowly. “I wouldn’t say the best ideas.”

“Since when are orgasms not best ideas?”

“Since it’s almost 4am and now we both need a shower.”

“Please, like your wolfy senses aren’t enjoying this.”

Derek hates it when Stiles is right. “Shut up,” he says, pinching Stiles under his ribs, laughing when Stiles squawks and squirms away. Stiles rolls onto his back and gazes up at the ceiling, Derek rests on his side and looks at Stiles. “Hey,” he says, capturing Stiles’ fingers with a hand. “You okay with visiting the Devlin pack?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Derek shrugs one shoulder. “First real pack invite. If you don’t want to come, then I can –”

“What?” Stiles turns onto his side to look at Derek. “Are you kidding me? A pack who aren’t going to try and kill or capture me? I’m coming for the novelty.”

“Stiles,” Derek groans. “Not all the packs tried to kill you.”

“Do you really want to go down that road? Because I have a list, you know I have a list.”

“I know you have a list.”

“Do you want me to get it out?”

“Let’s go take a shower,” Derek says, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms over his head.

“Is that code for blow job?” Stiles asks, scrambling off the bed. Derek hides a smile as Stiles stumbles, one foot caught in the sheets. He shoots an arm out and catches Stiles as he falls backwards. Stiles yelps and looks up at Derek. “Blow job?”

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles. “Shower,” he says, dragging Stiles with him as he stands up.

*

“So, where exactly are you going?” John asks at dinner two weeks later.

“Oglesby. It’s two hours outside Chicago,” Derek says. “It’s a good location for a pack, state parks nearby. The Devlins have been there almost as long as the Hales have been in Beacon Hills.”

“And they’re a decent pack?”

“Dad, Derek has reassured me that they will not try and kill me. Or kidnap me.”

“Well, they haven’t met you yet,” Derek smirks.

“That’s nice treatment from my husband, thanks.”

John coughs. “Boys?”

Derek frowns at Stiles before turning his attention to John. “Sorry. They are a safe pack, you don’t need to worry. Established, the hunters who follow the code leave them alone, and they’re held highly by other packs.”

“So there’s no danger?”

“There shouldn’t be,” Derek nods. “It’s very unlikely.”

“Don’t say that,” Stiles groans. “You’ll curse us.”

Derek shoots Stiles a look. “That’s not a thing.”

“It could be a thing. You don’t know.”

“I don’t think anything we’ve faced over the years has had to do with me saying there’s a little chance of danger.”

Stiles tilts his head, considering this. “You’re right. You were always telling us we were in danger.”

“And you never listened,” Derek grumbles under his breath, darting a look at John who is paying close attention to his food, used to ignoring Derek and Stiles when they get like this.

“I listened. When your plans didn’t suck,” Stiles says with a grin.

Derek shakes his head, unable to hide the fond smile on his face. He knocks his knee against Stiles’ and steals his fries.

*

“Holy shit,” is Stiles’ stunned reaction when he goes to check them in online and realises Derek booked them into First Class.

“What?” Derek’s putting their luggage by the door. He can tell just how many books Stiles has packed and ponders, again, the fact that more supernatural reference books should be available for the Kindle.

“We’re travelling First Class,” Stiles says, staring at Derek.

Derek shrugs and walks over to join Stiles on the couch. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never travelled First Class before,” Stiles says.

“I can afford it,” Derek says, placing a kiss against Stiles’ temple. “And you keep telling me I deserve nice things.”

“You do. And so do I.” Stiles leans into Derek and rests his head on Derek’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he says quietly.

“Anytime,” Derek says, his fingers tracing the back of Stiles’ hand.

*

Derek lets Stiles take the window seat and smiles absently when Stiles immediately starts gazing out of the window. There’s nothing to see yet except other airplanes, most of the passengers haven’t even boarded. A flight attendant brings their pre-departure drinks over, smiles politely at them both. Stiles sips at his OJ and slumps down in the seat, a tired smile on his face when he looks at Derek. Neither of them had time to shave before leaving and Derek rubs a hand across Stiles’ cheek, his thumb lightly running against Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles sighs, leaning into the touch for a moment before Derek takes his hand away.

“You okay?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah,” Derek says. “Just – the people.” He doesn’t elaborate, knows he doesn’t need to with Stiles. Not now, not after so many years. Stiles takes his hand and leans over the seat divider to kiss him. Derek loses himself in the feel of Stiles, the firmness of his lips, the tiny whimper Stiles lets out when Derek pulls back and buries his face in Stiles’ neck. He inhales Stiles’ scent like an addiction, it’s enough to block out the stale, recycled air already circulating around the cabin. Flying has never been easy for him, too many people, too many unfamiliar smells. Stiles has always teased him about being anti-social, but Derek knows Stiles understands what is behind it, it’s why he’s running his fingers through Derek’s hair as Derek breathes in everything that makes Stiles who he is.

Derek kisses Stiles’ neck softly and straightens up. Stiles tangles his fingers with Derek’s and sits back, grinning as he stretches his legs out. They sit there quietly while the safety video plays. and Stiles grips Derek’s hand tightly as the plane takes off before lifting their joined hands and kissing Derek’s knuckles. 

*

There’s a representative from the Devlin pack waiting for them when they land. He introduces himself, and ushers them towards a black SUV. Derek puts their luggage in the trunk and asks how long the drive will be. Stiles is anxious, his face tight, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for Derek before they climb into the vehicle. As soon as they’re settled, Derek strokes a finger down the side of Stiles’ face and pulls him close, sniffing at the top of Stiles’ head and smiling into Stiles’ hair when he feels Stiles relax against him.

*

Anthony Devlin is exactly how Derek remembers him. When he was a child, Anthony was an imposing figure and nothing has changed, there’s a part of Derek that feels like a pup around him. Derek clasps Stiles’ hand and leads him over to Anthony.

“It’s good to see you, Derek,” Anthony says, extending his hand.

Derek smiles, shaking Anthony’s hand. “And you. Thank you for the invite, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. This is Stiles?”

“Yes,” Derek says, letting Anthony shake hands with Stiles.

Anthony steps back and gestures to the land. There’s more houses than Derek remembers as a cub, the Devlin pack has obviously expanded and it gives Derek hope for the future, for what the Hale pack could become. Their luggage has been taken to one of the houses and Anthony walks them over, tells them they’ll meet everyone at breakfast in the main house tomorrow.

Stiles walks straight in and falls face first onto the bed with a groan. Derek shakes his head fondly and strips his jacket off, pulling his t shirt over his head.

“I can hear you stripping,” Stiles says into the bedspread. “Stop that.”

“You don’t want me taking my clothes off?” Derek smirks, unbuckling his belt.

“Not when I’m not watching.”

Derek sits on the edge of the bed and undoes the laces on his boots. He laughs when he feels Stiles’ fingers on his back. “Get bored?”

Stiles hums and places his mouth on the base of Derek’s neck, his arms loosely around Derek’s waist. “Never bored with you,” he mumbles against Derek’s skin before straightening up and hooking his chin over Derek’s shoulder. “Not ever.”

Kicking his boots off, Derek turns his head and breathes in Stiles’ hair. “You smell like plane.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“Come on,” Derek says, untangling Stiles’ arms from around his body. He stands up and looks at Stiles kneeling on the bed. “Shower.”

“Ugh. Tired.”

Derek leans down and kisses Stiles, one hand gripping the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles sinks into the kiss with a sigh, Derek slides his free arm around Stiles’ waist and lifts him off the bed, encouraging Stiles to wrap his legs around his hips. Derek pulls back a little and rests his forehead against Stiles’, smiling a little. “Shower?” he mutters quietly. Stiles nods and digs his fingers into Derek’s shoulders.

They stumble into the adjoining bathroom, Derek sets Stiles down next to the sink and tugs at his clothing, ridding him of his t shirt. Stiles whines when Derek makes him stand up; Derek distracts him with a quick kiss while he unzips Stiles’ jeans and shoves them down past his hips. He steps back and strips his own jeans off, eyes on Stiles as he gets naked. Stiles knows he’s watching because he’s going slow, laughter in his eyes as he bites his lip and pushes his boxers down just enough to expose his hipbones. Derek involuntarily makes a noise and crowds Stiles against the sink until they’re pressed up against each other. Stiles laughs and runs his hands down Derek’s back, his fingernails scraping against the skin. He slips his hands inside Derek’s underwear and gropes Derek’s ass. Derek groans, shoving Stiles’ boxers down, impatiently lifting Stiles up to let them fall to the floor.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles laughs, his hands grasping at the small of Derek’s back.

“Should’ve moved faster,” Derek says, lowering him back down.

“Thought you wanted to shower?” Stiles hooks his fingers in the waistband of Derek’s underwear. “You need to lose these.”

Derek steps back and quickly loses the boxer briefs. He raises an eyebrow as Stiles looks him over. “Yes?”

“You,” Stiles says, stepping forward. He threads his fingers through Derek’s hair and tugs lightly. “Just. You.” He kisses Derek softly and takes his hand, walking over to switch the shower on. Derek presses up against Stiles’ side and runs his hands down his body, fingers brushing against Stiles’ half hard cock. Stiles hisses and pulls Derek into the shower, stumbling slightly before Derek catches him.

Derek tips his head up and lets the thrum of the water clear away the day’s travelling. He can hear Stiles opening various bottles and sighs when Stiles’ hands run over his chest. Stiles kisses the hollow of Derek’s throat as he washes Derek, following the trail of the foam down to Derek’s crotch. Derek makes a noise low in his throat when Stiles grips his cock, slick and firm. His head falls forward and Stiles kisses along his cheek until he finds Derek’s mouth, nipping at Derek’s bottom lip. Stiles works Derek’s cock as he lays soft, desperate kisses against Derek’s mouth, swallowing the words Derek can’t stop from tumbling out. Derek flexes his fingers against Stiles’ hip and pulls him forward, the head of Stiles’ cock brushing against Derek’s skin. Blinking against the water, Derek gasps and shoves his hips forward, needing to get off. Stiles is whispering in his ear, telling him to come and Derek has never been able to deny Stiles anything.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles says as Derek comes all over his hand. He holds Derek, the water still pouring over them and smiles when Derek meets his eyes. “Hey.”

Derek grins and mouths at Stiles’ neck, biting gently before sucking at the flesh, marking him because he wants to, because Stiles _lets_ him. He drops to his knees and sticks his face in Stiles’ groin, inhaling his scent, nuzzling at Stiles’ balls. Stiles lightly threads his fingers through Derek’s hair, it’s a comfort and Derek leans into it. He holds Stiles’ cock steady and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss at the base before licking up the underside. Derek swirls his tongue around the head, smiles when Stiles lets out a guttural groan; he sucks lightly and runs a hand up Stiles’ chest, scraping his blunt nails against Stiles’ skin. He loves Stiles like this, loves the heavy weight of him against his tongue, the way Stiles can’t control his mouth whenever Derek blows him, words, grunts and moans spilling from his lips. They’ve done this more times than Derek can count and he’s never, ever going to get tired of it. He’s gripping Stiles’ hips, his nose up against Stiles’ pubes, swallowing compulsively, pushing the limits of his gag reflex until Stiles is pulling at his hair and coming down his throat.

Derek pulls off, breathing heavily, Stiles’ hands still fisted in his hair. He rests his head against Stiles’ hip and wraps his arms around Stiles’ body. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“Me too, big guy,” Stiles says, gently massaging Derek’s head. “Me too.”

*

Derek wakes up to the sun streaming in through the large window by the bed. Stiles is smooshed into his side, blankets halfway down his body, and Derek takes a moment to run a hand up Stiles’ warmed skin. He trails his fingers across the moles on Stiles’ back, playing a random connect the dots game that Stiles hates him doing when he’s awake.

“Stop it,” Stiles mumbles into Derek’s arm.

“Not doing anything.”

Stiles lifts his head slightly, a small furrow between his brows that Derek adores. “Yeah you are,” he says, rolling onto his back. He stretches, sighing before turning his head to look at Derek. “What time is it?”

Derek shrugs. “Early?” He turns on his side and rests a hand on Stiles’ chest, fingers underneath his collarbones. Stiles smiles happily and inches closer to Derek, rubbing their noses together. Derek laughs, kisses the tip of Stiles’ nose and tugs at his arm until they’re up against each other, legs tangled, sleep soft skin coming into contact. Stiles pushes his face into the curve of Derek’s neck and sighs, fingers slowly stroking Derek’s back.

“What’s going to happen today?” Stiles mutters into Derek’s neck. “Are there weird wolfy customs I have to take part in or something?”

“Yeah, you have to eat raw rabbit.”

“Derek,” Stiles huffs, tapping his hand against Derek’s kidneys. “Be serious.”

“Oh, you want me to be serious now? After all the time you put into making me loosen up?” Derek laughs when Stiles bites his neck. “Fuck, okay. No, there’s nothing special you have to do.”

“You sure?”

“Stiles, it’s pretty simple,” Derek says, nuzzling at his neck. “You know pack hierarchy, you know how to behave. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up for you.”

Derek stills. “You know that’s impossible, right?”

“It’s really not.”

Stiles is still speaking into Derek’s neck and Derek knows he’s hiding. He cranes his neck back and gently nudges at Stiles’ face until their eyes meet. “It’s impossible,” Derek says quietly. “You make me better. There’s no chance of you fucking up here.”

“Ugh, now I want to make out with you but we both have gross morning breath.”

Derek’s just about to say something when there’s a knock on the door, telling them breakfast will be in 30 minutes. He sighs and brushes a finger along Stiles’ cheek. “Come on, breakfast.”

“And then making out?”

*

Stiles presses a hand to Derek’s shoulder as he passes him a plate filled with eggs, bacon and pancakes, setting another on the table for himself. Derek smiles, kissing his cheek when Stiles sits next to him. “You good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Stiles response, chewing on a piece of bacon. One of the kids in the pack is staring at Stiles from across the table and Derek laughs when Stiles sticks his tongue out at him and the kid wolfs out in surprise.

“Joshua, don’t stare,” his mom, Alma, lightly reprimands. Joshua kneels on his chair and whispers something in his mom’s ear making her chuckle. “I know he’s human, sweetheart, but he’s part of Derek’s pack.” She shakes her head and looks at Derek, scooping Joshua onto her lap. “Sorry, he’s not quite used to different packs yet.”

“It’s fine,” Derek waves her off with a smile. “Stiles is a shock for most people.”

“Hey,” Stiles grumbles through a mouthful of pancake.

Derek smirks, kissing Stiles’ temple. “You’re denying it?”

“I’m a delight.”

“Sure you are.”

Joshua laughs at them, clapping his hands together. Stiles grins and waves a hand at Joshua, waves of contentment coming off him as he entertains the kid; Derek smiles into his mug as he takes a sip of coffee. He loves seeing Stiles with children, has often turned up at the school to pick up Stiles early just to watch him helping his pre-schoolers with their jackets, wiping their noses, chubby little hands waving and calling “bye Mr. Stiles,” at him as they’re handed over to their parents.

“He’s good with kids,” Alma says.

Derek nods. “He works with them, they love him. Our fridge is covered in incomprehensible drawings they do for him.”

Alma laughs, letting Joshua stand on her thighs so he can show Stiles that their pants are the same colour. Another woman comes over, one hand linked with a young girl and a baby curled against her chest. “Alma, can you take Ryan? I promised Jasmine we’d go swimming.”

“Yes, of course. Joshua, honey, can you get off momma’s lap now?” Joshua lets out a large sigh and slides to the floor before clambering back onto his own seat. Alma takes the baby and strokes his face when he starts to whimper. “Hush now, Ryan, come on sweetheart.”

“He’s not yours?” Derek asks.

“He’s not anyone’s. His family, they were about to join us when they were set on by hunters. Ryan was the only one who survived.”

Stiles lets out an involuntary whine and Derek instinctively wraps an arm around his shoulder, holding him close. He runs his fingers up and down Stiles’ arm. “None of the families here can take him?”

Alma shakes her head sadly. “We love him, we do, but we all have young children of our own and those who have older children aren’t looking to raise another one. He’ll be loved if he stays here, he’ll have a pack, but not a family.”

Derek sighs and pulls Stiles closer to him. Pack always meant family to him when he was a kid, even more so now he’s an adult. He’s well aware that in larger packs, families join and keep to themselves outside of pack activities, but that’s not how he wants the Hale pack to be. Stiles is rubbing his hand against Derek’s stomach and looking up at him. Derek nods and they make their excuses, heading outside into the grounds.

*

Stiles takes Derek’s hand as they walk through the grounds. He’s quiet, which isn’t that unusual now, Stiles’ need to express everything on his mind calmed down as he got older. They’re a good way away from the main house when Stiles starts to talk. “Could we? Do you want to?”

Derek shrugs, rubbing his thumb against Stiles skin. “I’ve always wanted to with you. It’s just never been...”

“The right time,” Stiles says. “But we could now, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek smiles and squeezes Stiles’ hand. “We could. You want to?”

Stiles stops walking and turns to face Derek. “Duh.” He steps forward and takes Derek’s other hand. “You know how often I sit at work and think about what if we had our own kid? How he could do drawings of us and you could teach him how to howl?”

“I really hope you think I’d teach him more than that,” Derek smirks.

“Like lurking?” Stiles grins, placing a quick kiss against Derek’s cheek. “You would. You’d be the best dad.”

Derek gets an ache in his chest when Stiles says those words and he lets go of Stiles’ hands, cups his face instead, and kisses him softly, slowly, until Stiles’s hands are fisted in Derek’s shirt and he’s pressing his whole body against Derek. “I’ll have to talk to Anthony,” Derek mumbles against Stiles’ lips, his hands moving down Stiles’ body, resting them on Stiles’ hips. “And you can explain to your father why we went away and came back with a baby.”

“Deal,” Stiles says, looping his arms around Derek’s neck. “You can tell Lydia and Ellie, though. I’m not arguing with them about why they can’t decorate our kid’s room.” Derek groans and drops his head against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles laughs and rubs the back of Derek’s head. “Come on, let’s go back to the house.”

*

Alma smiles when she hands Ryan over to them. Stiles sits on the couch and waves his fingers in Ryan’ face, laughing when Ryan tries to grab at them. Derek rolls his eyes and tickles Ryan’ stomach before joining Stiles on the couch.

“How old is he?”

“Just turned seven months,” Alma hesitates before continuing. “Is this – do you want him?”

Stiles looks up from making faces at Ryan. “We do.”

“If Anthony agrees,” Derek says.

“I’m sure he will be. Please understand, we do love Ryan, we just can’t offer him a family.”

Derek reaches over and touches her hand gently. “You don’t need to explain it to us. We’re grateful to have this opportunity.” He settles back on the couch and smiles when Ryan’ hands reach out for him.

“He likes you,” Stiles says, letting Derek take Ryan. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder as Derek sits Ryan on his lap, facing them both. Stiles taps a finger against Ryan’ nose, laughing when his brow furrows as he tries to work out what Stiles just did. Derek leans against Stiles and he inhales their subtly mixing scents, the sweeter tang of Ryan joining the familiar combined scent of him and Stiles. It’s already comforting, already something Derek can feel sitting in his chest, the idea of _pack_ and _family_ stronger than it ever has been.

Anthony comes into the house, his eyes immediately drawn to where Derek and Stiles are sitting, a look on his face like he knows what Derek is thinking.

Stiles scoops Ryan up off Derek’s lap, holds him in his arms and sniffs his head. He kisses Derek’s temple and walks off to the kitchen with Alma, muttering about finding Ryan something to chew on. Derek watches them go, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around them both and hold them close, inhale their mixing scents.

“Looks like your mate and Ryan are bonding,” Anthony says, taking a seat in the chair across from Derek.

“They are,” Derek clears his throat. “Alma says that there’s no one here who can take him in?”

“The ones who don’t have new children of their own aren’t looking to take in a new child. We’re not a communal pack, as you know, so it makes it difficult to give him a home.”

“And if Stiles and I wanted to take him?”

“Derek,” Anthony sighs, sitting forward. “I remember your parents well. I remember you, and your siblings, as children. If you, your mate, and your pack can give that child as much love as there was when I knew your parents, then I have no objections. A permanent link between the Devlin and Hale packs can only be good.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“We can do the paperwork here, if you wish. Christine is a lawyer.”

Derek nods. “That would be good, easier.”

“Great,” Anthony stands and smiles. “Now, go and join your mate and your son.”

*

The rest of the visit goes quicker than Derek would like. It soon becomes common knowledge that Derek and Stiles will be taking Ryan, and every member of the pack wants to say goodbye. Derek starts to look forward to the evenings when they can retire to their small house after dinner and curl up together. They spend their first night with Ryan on their bed, watching his reactions to everything. Derek flashes his Alpha eyes at him and nuzzles his cheek when Ryan’ golden eyes flash in response. Stiles thinks everything Ryan does is remarkable, he even laughs when Ryan spits mashed carrots on his shirt. Derek likes lying on the bed with Stiles curled into his side, Ryan dozing on his chest. Stiles rests a hand on Ryan’ back, watching his hand rise and fall as Ryan breathes evenly. It’s good for them all to have this, the more he’s around them, the more Ryan relaxes. His scent settles and whenever Derek or Stiles picks him up in the mornings, his heart speeds up a little, excited to see faces he recognises.

*

Christine walks them through the paperwork, there’s a network of werewolves she’s connected to who help make the process quick; Derek had forgotten about this side of pack life, about the integration into regular society to ease the way for things like this. When she hands over the forms listing himself and Stiles as parents, Derek can’t help the grin on his face as he kisses the top of Ryan’s head and looks over at Stiles.

“He’s ours?” Stiles says, Ryan’s hand wrapped around one of his fingers.

“He’s yours,” Christine confirms. “Since you’re married under human law, it made it much easier to get this through.”

Stiles shoots a look at Derek. “And who was it that thought getting human married was a stupid idea?”

“I never said stupid.”

“No,” Stiles snorts. “You just thought your wolfy ceremony would be good enough.”

Derek huffs. “I was wrong, okay?”

“Hear that, kid?” Stiles rubs Ryan’s head. “That’s your dad saying he was wrong. You’ve got to try really hard to remember that because it might not happen again.” Stiles grins at Derek, dropping a kiss on his nose as he stands up. He makes grabby hands for Ryan and coos at him when Derek hands him over. Derek shakes hands with Christine and holds the paperwork tightly, following Stiles out of her office.

*

“Hi, dad? Uh, you’re coming to pick us up at the airport, right?” Stiles runs a hand through his hair. “Well, there kind of needs to be a car seat in the car when you do.” He pauses for a moment, scrunching up his face in response to whatever John is saying. “What? No, Derek didn’t get de-aged. Is that even a thing? No. Dad, uh. We adopted a baby. You’re a Grampy, congratulations.” Stiles face softens as he listens to his dad. Derek doesn’t eavesdrop, they long ago agreed on Derek controlling his hearing whenever Stiles is on the phone and Derek never wants to go through that argument again. “His name’s Ryan, and he’s 7 months old. He’s amazing, dad, really. I wanted to wait until we got back to tell you so you could meet him, but we need a car seat, so...” Stiles shoots a grin at Derek. “Yeah. Thanks dad.”

Derek reluctantly hands Ryan over to Stiles when he ends the call and walks over. “Everything okay?” he asks, hauling their bags onto the luggage cart.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, dotting light kisses across Ryan’s face, laughing when Ryan grabs at his nose. “He’s happy. Shocked, but happy.” He leans over and kisses Derek, smiling into the kiss when Derek drops his bag and rests his hands against Stiles’ hips, fingers digging in.

Ryan takes that moment to grab at Derek’s hair, erupting in giggles when Derek yelps in surprise. Derek gently detangles Ryan’s fingers from his hair and kisses his hand, smiling softly. “You’re going to be trouble,” he says, one hand still on Stiles’ hip.

Stiles leans into Derek, nuzzling at his cheek. “We can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, breathing in the scent of his pack, of his _family_.

*

John drops them off at home with the car seat, a travel crib he’d found in the attic and a promise to come by the next day. Stiles sends a group text to the pack, telling them that they’re back and demanding they all come to the house tomorrow.

“We’re having him in our room, right?” Derek says, carrying the travel crib upstairs.

“Yeah. Just until we can sort his room out.”

Ryan’s eyes are wide, looking around at everything, his head turning every which way. Derek sets up the crib while Stiles changes Ryan, nibbling at his hands whenever Ryan tries to bat Stiles’ face. Stiles starts laughing when he pulls out a onesie from the bag, Derek looks up and rolls his eyes.

“It’s got sheep, Derek. Sheep,” Stiles grins and starts to dress Ryan in the ridiculous onesie.

Derek stands up and shakes the crib, satisfied with it, at least until they get a proper one. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his boots before stretching out, curling his upper body around Ryan. Stiles kicks off his Vans and mirrors Derek on the other side, his palm on Ryan’s stomach, rubbing circles. Derek puts his hand over Stiles’, stilling the movement, and links their fingers together. “Hey,” he says quietly, meeting Stiles’ eyes.

“We’ve got a son,” Stiles says, his eyes wide. “We’re responsible for a whole other wolf child.”

“Yeah, we are.” Derek looks down at Ryan and lets his face change. Ryan squeals and reaches his hands up, Derek lowers his head and lets Ryan touch wherever he wants. He has vague memories of his dad doing this with him, before he could control the shift, letting him run his hands over his face, letting him touch his fangs. It helped him understand what he was, that it could be controlled. Derek laughs when Ryan pulls at the fur on his face and shifts back.

Ryan’s head turns to Stiles, as if he’s expecting Stiles to do the same thing. Stiles laughs and bops him on the nose with a finger. “Not happening, kid. There’s only one wolfy parent in this house.” He squeezes Derek’s hand and lets go. “I’m outnumbered. We’re going to have to get another one.”

“Another one?” Derek says, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh huh,” Stiles yawns, turning onto his back. “One that’s a squishy human like me.”

Derek shakes his head and looks back down at Ryan. “Your papa is insane,” he says, scooping him off the bed. He kisses his cheek and lays him down in the crib, reaching in to stroke his cheek. Stiles comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Derek’s body, rubbing his face against his neck.

“I’m not insane,” he says. “That’s a lie.” Stiles leans into the crib, kisses his finger and touches it to Ryan’s head. “Sleep well, kiddo.”

*

Lydia and Ellie spend the next day glaring at Derek from across the kitchen after he tells them they can’t decorate Ryan’s room. John hogs Ryan for the best part of the afternoon, only giving him up when Stiles tells him he can have fries if he shares the baby. Scott eyes Allison’s reactions to Ryan, nerves wafting off him, but when Derek starts to tease him, Stiles comes out of nowhere and slaps his head.

“See how rude your papa is to me?” Derek says to Ryan, who just stares at him, chewing on the leg of the soft giraffe John gave him.

Stiles leans over the back of the couch and kisses Derek upside down. “I love you,” he says, climbing over the back of the couch to join them, plucking Ryan from Derek’s lap. “Both of you.”

“Me too,” Derek says, kissing Stiles’ neck as Stiles blows raspberries against Ryan’s cheek, high pitched baby babble filling the room. He rests his head against Stiles’ shoulder, his eyes fixed on Ryan, captivated by every smile he gives them. Lydia comes over for her turn with the baby and Stiles reluctantly hands him over, telling him not to listen to a word she says.

Stiles takes Derek’s hand, threading their fingers together, and sighs. “We did good here, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, lifting his head from Stiles’ shoulder, looking around the room at the pack. “Yeah, we did.”


End file.
